DIFFERENT [hs] |Complete|

Eighteen

His pace was fast and it became rather hard to catch up to him, but I knew where he was directing himself. Once his vehicle came into view I began to jog so I would catch up to his strides. My fingers clasped around his shirt where it covered his shoulders, and with all the strength I could muster I spun him around and pushed him to his car.

"What the -"

"What is your problem?!" I spat, my grip tightening on his shirt. His eyes glanced to my fist then to my face.

"I don't want to talk about it, Cassandra," his own hand reached to cover mine where he pulled, but his attempt was futile as I tightened my palm even more to the point where I felt my nails dig into my skin.

"What happened to you? This morning you were perfectly fine and now you're acting like an obnoxious dimwit. What pissed you off so bad, huh? The fact that Niall and Louis were calling you out? Tell me, Harry!"

He avoided my eyes, looking anywhere else but at me. "Can we do this somewhere else? Maybe away from people."

"Fine."

-

"So talk," I began the moment we walked through the door of his apartment. I turned to see that he was still at the door, struggling to remove his key from the lock. Once he was done he shut the door, locking it, then moved to sit on the sofa.

"What do you want me to say?"

I knew what I wanted to say, but I was unable to process it into actual words. I was angry at him, but my point was invalid... he did nothing wrong.

"I don't know," my voice was soft and whispered as I sunk into the sofa adjacent to him. "I don't know if I'm pissed off and angry, or hurt..." Immediately I felt uncomfortable as I said those words. I wanted nothing more than just reverse the past half hour or to run out of this apartment, but both approaches seemed cowardly.

"Hurt," he repeated to himself, his head was bowed and his fingers were entwined as he thought about that particular word.

"I don't know."

"You seem to not know a lot of things," there was no harshness in his tone, but there was some sort of definite underline in that statement.

"Are you ashamed of me?"

His head snapped the second I finished my sentence, brows furrowed and mouth wide open. "You can't be serious."

"Well what am I supposed to think? You don't tell me anything."

"You're just as bad, don't go telling me that I'm the one who's shit at communicating. One minute you're storming out of my apartment and the next you're kissing me like there's no tomorrow."

This made my cheeks heat, he was right but then again he was also wrong.

"That goes both ways, Harry."

His head bobbed up and down, showing that he agreed with what I said. "Look..." He sighed loudly.

"I like you, a lot. You're such a good person, you're so genuine and it's hard finding somebody like that these days. I care about you, I'm sure you already know that. I've known the boys nearly all my life yet when it comes to not being able to sleep or being in a really shit mood I would never call them because they obviously wouldn't know what to do. But you do.

"Like... you don't have to say anything and I'll be feeling fine. You listen when I ramble on about irrelevant bullshit that you most likely don't understand. When I asked you if I could come over you shot my question down but decided to come by yourself without asking why. You just knew. I didn't even need to ask you to stay over because I knew you would, because you care. I want you to believe me when I say I care about you, because I do... a lot."